


Champagne doux-amer

by Thomaddicted



Series: Sterek Valentines Week 2021 [5]
Category: Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29416764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thomaddicted/pseuds/Thomaddicted
Summary: Years ago, Derek Hale said goodbye to Stiles Stilinski. Years and years later, chance brings the two old friends together.After a long night of reconnecting with each other, both Derek and Stiles reflect and remember what happened that night after the battle of the berserkers in Mexico. Will the night bring them together, or will old bitterness keep them apart?Set in an AU where Kate Argent does not survive the desert, S6's war never happens, and set 35 years into the future, learn what happened that fateful morning before Derek left Stiles in the desert with the others.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Sterek Valentines Week 2021 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2150535
Comments: 8
Kudos: 55
Collections: Sterek Valentine Week





	Champagne doux-amer

**Author's Note:**

> Fifth in the series for Sterek Valentine Week, 2021
> 
> Prompt: Champagne  
> Rating: PG13 (Adult situations, Language)

Stiles looked around the inside of the restaurant, searching for the sign his date was there.

It was nothing, but it felt like everything. Ever since he joined the website, "Mates For Males", he had been inundated with interest from Weres of various kinds. Some were interesting, but ultimately, nothing Stiles was interested in, until he met his match on the site. It was like being hit by lightning.

Stiles didn't think he'd ever find love, not the kind he wanted, or needed, this late in his life. He'd watched all of his friends find happiness years and years later. Scott had eventually pulled his head out of his ass and searched for Isaac, joining Jackson and Ethan in London, then to Paris to find his better half where he was ending his relationship with Chris Argent. Theo and Liam had coupled, despite Theo's not being in Scott's pack, he'd married into a pack with Liam, but by the time that happened, Scott and Liam had split into two packs. Liam's pack also consisted of Mason and Corey, also husbands, as well as a few Supers that had made their way into Beacon Hills. Even Stiles' dad got back on the scene, and was dating Melissa McCall, and Stiles was sure, that much closer to making Stiles and Scott brothers in a legal, as well as spiritual sense. Not that it mattered this late in the game.

Now, in his 40s, Stiles was sure he was going to die alone. A fucked up thought, but it's like people think you have to find your one true love in childhood, and stay with them forever, otherwise, you've failed some sort of unwritten cosmic rule. Stiles had thought that happened when he and Lydia finally got together after high school. All those years of pining for his perfect, strawberry blonde princess turned banshee had finally come to fruition. She had kissed him, told him that she loved him, satisfied every part of that "good guy wears down the girl of his dream and finally makes the sacrifice of his own life to save everyone to get her to finally see him as a human being, thereby having her fall in love with him" trope (a shitty, unreasonable trope, but who writes shit like that anyway?), and it wasn't until a few months into dating her that Stiles realized that Lydia was what he had been focusing on, but Lydia wasn't what Stiles wanted. Not anymore.

Stiles sat at the bar for a few minutes. A handsome Beta was bartending, his gold eyes glinting under the lights.

"Can I get you a drink, Sir?" The bartender asked, politely. Stiles looked up, and shook his head. "Oh, no, thank you." Stiles replied. "I'm meeting someone here, and I'm not sure he's here yet."

The bartender nodded, and moved away to another customer, who ordered a double wolf's bane whiskey.

Stiles fidgeted again, nervously scanning the room. Inside here was the answer, or at the very least, the answer for tonight. Some screen name that Stiles had been talking to for a couple of weeks that had somehow managed to charm and impress Stiles enough to meet him here for dinner.

"lonewolf4ever" seemed to be as guarded as Stiles was, where he was found as "redbatlost". Likely a good name to get mauled and used, but at this point, Stiles wondered if that wouldn't be just fine. Maybe love was over rated, and maybe he should just spend the rest of his life getting railed by Weres who would fill him up just enough to sate him, but never enough to fill that hole in his life that only seemed to grow bigger, from almost thirty years ago.

It's what Stiles liked about "lonewolf", was that he was just as lost as Stiles was, and even though Stiles had no idea what the Wolf looked like, (both were fine blind dating) Stiles knew who he could pretend this guy was, even just for the night.

Stiles caught a glimpse of someone walking in, but it wasn't his date. Stiles was beginning to wonder if he was being stood up. He knew he stuck out like sore thumb, but Stiles held fast. The restaurant was large, and comprised of numerous small rooms for diners to meet and dine. Given the nature of the clientele, it would be too easy to tear the place down with fights every night, especially from Alpha's poaching another Alpha's intended. Stiles knew that there was at least two rooms open down here, because he could see them. One of them had to be reserved for him and his date.

Date. The idea amused Stiles.

Dating had been an.... adventure... for Stiles. After he understood that even though he loved Lydia, he wasn't as in love with her as he thought. Lydia, bless her heart, took it all in stride, and decided that maybe she should start giving background checks and Rorschach tests to future male suitors.

Newly queer, Stiles dated. He had often wished he'd had time to explore his questioning thoughts with Danny, or even continue what Scott and he had briefly explored decades ago. Stiles threw himself into a sea of men. Well, okay, it was more like a waist deep lake that wasn't very large, but it had yielded some great, and not so great experiences. There had been a few great relationships, if you could call them that, but none of them seemed to satisfy Stiles. He gained experience, as a video game character might, collecting weapons and hit points, but felt like he was playing without a game guide. He knew there was a destination, a goal, but no idea where that was, until tonight.

Stiles watches as a figure enters the bar. He is wearing a leather jacket, exactly as he said he would. He is somewhere in his 50s as well, as he said he would be, although he still looks like he might be in his thirties. He is tall, and muscular, and still looks amazing, even more so than when Stiles last lay eyes on him in the late afternoon of the Mexican desert where they were last together. Stiles is aware that his eyes are stinging with unshed tears. Whether they are from anger, relief, or sadness, Stiles cannot tell. He manages to move his jaw and make a word fall out of it, hoarsely.

"Derek?"

Derek knows something is likely to happen. He feels it, his Wolf feels it as he grooms himself for tonight, trimming his beard, combing his hair. He'd been nervous about opening up in the slightest to this new dating app. After leaving the states for a very long time on a hunt for his sister Cora, Derek felt no need to return. He could have, at any time, but for the sake of his health, physical and emotional, Derek decided to just spend all his time traveling, before eventually landing in Brazil. He fell in love with the land, the people, the culture. The people especially, were beautiful, and kind. Derek found himself surrounded by beautiful men and women, who seemed to find him very attractive, and Derek took lover after lover, whichever gender attracted him, keeping them only long enough to satisfy him, but never enough to grow attached. He'd had enough of attachments in his life, and for the first time ever, he felt like he could let loose. Derek expressed the level of hedonistic abandon that most teenagers get to have, that were robbed from him in those last years of his teendom. Kate Argent had not only stolen his innocence at a disgutingly young age, she had robbed him of so much more. So Derek felt no remorse at the way he loved them and left them.

It wasn't until he hit his late thirties that the playboy lifestyle of a wealthy Hale began to bore him.

Suddenly, the champagne wasn't as sweet, the food less succulent and fulfilling. Brazil was still beautiful, but he felt less so. Cora suggested that Derek maybe head someplace new. Despite the years spent looking for her, Derek knew that Cora was right. Derek needed to find someplace his, uniquely his, where he had no ties. If he couldn't find a new pack, or didn't want one, at the very least, he could find a place where he could pretend to be looking for one. New York held too many memories of Laura for him, and there was no way Derek was going back to Beacon Hills, so he set his sights for someplace further South.

Living in Los Angeles strangely suited Derek. There was a varied, rich landscape, numerous tribes, and just enough nightlife for fun, but not enough to make him regret staying out until 5 in the morning, like New York had.

Derek brushed his clothes off, as he stood in front of the mirror. He still looked good for being in his fifties. He still looked like he was in his early thirties, and wondered if his Uncle Peter was still trying to pull teens with his "younger than I look" creep nonsense. Derek felt his years on his body, and wore them proudly. He looked good. He felt good. So why was he so nervous about this date?

Maybe it was because of the ease that him and "red", as he'd come to think of his chatting companion, had connected. The way they talked back and forth was natural, almost whimsical. Derek felt giddy as he replied each time, wondering if he was being stupid. Worse than that, what if there was someone using this app to hunt Weres? No, Derek knew that even that, he would have figured out. At least, he hoped he would have, this late in his life. Still, there was something irresistible to this guy he was chatting with, something that tugged at the very dark corners of Derek's mind, where he eagerly elbowed all the stuff he'd been trying to block for some thirty years, at least.

So there was no reason he should be this nervous, this ready to NOT go, and see this guy. Why was he so afraid?

Derek grabbed his keys and headed out to his Camaro, an updated version of his old chariot, and got inside. Sinking into the comfortable leather interior, Derek turned the car on, appreciating the hum of the engine. Derek closed his eyes, and shook his head as one of the shadows tried to creep out of the corner of his mind. That had been happening more lately, and Derek sat for a moment, wondering if he really wanted to do this, before buckling his seat belt, and driving off from his home in the hills.

Getting to "Compagnon" the spot that he and his date had decided on, Derek was pleased that he had made reservations, pleased even more that his wealth made is possible for him to get a table on a packed night. Giving his keys to the valet, Derek stepped out of his car, and walked up to the entrance. The crisp, cold air of the California night carried various scents to him, including one that tickled those shadows in his brain's oubliette, but Derek again, forced those back. He stepped into the building, and went looking for the guy he was meeting, who said he would be in the bar, wearing a dark red shirt, with black pants.

Stepping up to the bar, Derek pauses. There is a scent here, one that he hasn't smelled in decades. It all but punches him in the face as he stands at the door way of the bar. Derek feels his mouth go dry, even as he salivates. How stupid am I, Derek wonders. He has not needed an anchor, because he's removed himself from any conflicts. He has removed himself from conflict, just so he'd never have to remember. Derek chose to erase something from his life, erase people, time periods, just so he wouldn't have to feel what he feels, which was hurt. Hurt he knows he's caused.

"I'm doing this for you." The words echo in his head. "I'm doing this to protect you, to save you. I'm doing this because I care about you...."

"Stiles."

Stiles doesn't think his legs will work. He has been an FBI agent, reliant on his body and its abilities for almost twenty years now. Stiles is sure that someone would be able to walk up to him, point a gun right at his face (ah, the teenage years), and pull the trigger, and Stiles doesn't know he could move. So he just stands, and stares, a twisted parallel of something that happened when he was still in high school.

"Please... Derek... I just... I need... you...."

The words don't even sound like him, in his head, his memories. As if he's been this old all his life. He looks at Derek Hale, and decides that even though he knows better, he is going to do what he knows. He is going to fucking lie through his teeth.

"Derek. Imagine seeing you here tonight." Stiles' voice is shaky, but there. "It's been what. 30 years? Give or take?"

Stiles watches as Derek comes out of his stupor, and shakes his head "Stiles. Yeah, its been... ages."

Instinct emerges, and Stiles reaches his hand out to Derek in a handshake, and when Derek responds by sticking his own hand out, wrapping his hand around Stiles'.

"It's... good to see you." Stiles says, swallowing thickly. He lets go of Derek's hand, and turns, fumbling for his whiskey, and taking a sip, grateful for the sting that attacks his mouth and throat. He understands briefly why his father liked to drink so much, and wonders if it is hereditary. He recovers himself. "What brings you here tonight?"

By the look on Derek's face, Stiles knows he's caught the Wolf. Derek's eyes widen, and Stiles is so sure he's about to hear a lie, he'd put every last cent of his savings on a bet.

"Just... stopped in. For dinner." Derek replies, adding "Alone."

Stiles nods. An almost truth. Somehow, very Derek Hale. "And yourself?" The Wolf asks.

"Same." Stiles nods, knowing his heart is skittering anyway. Let Derek pick the lie out if he wants, good luck. It is true. Stiles is here for dinner. Only now...

"Are you alone?" Derek asks, and it sounds casual, but feels weighted.

Stiles nods, because yes. "The last ten years or so." He blurts out, and immediately regrets it, because although Stiles Stilinski would not approve of that clearance, clearly Mr. Jameson in his hand has allowed that bit of information to slip out.

"Do you...." Derek begins, and gestures to one of the empty rooms in the place. "I mean... if you're here... and not... with anyone..."

Stiles feels a sense of great satisfaction in how Derek is floundering, though Stiles has no idea why. Derek is a handsome, strong, virile, sexy, confident Alpha, able to command Stiles and Stiles knows he would follow Derek's word, even if he didn't want to. After all, Stiles has done it before.

"Okay." Stiles nods. "That would be nice."

Derek thinks he might die. Of embarrassment, of a heart attack, or the sheer idea that maybe Stiles is an agent sent to kill him. Derek thinks maybe, maybe he would let Stiles kill him. Derek thinks, maybe I deserve it, for abandoning them. Abandoning HIM, Derek's mind reminds him, you abandoned HIM, not them, not Scott, not the pack...

Stiles looks wonderful. The years sit well on Stiles, and despite being older than Derek last remembers seeing him, Stiles looks like he could easily still be in his twenties, early thirties tops. The smile on his face is more cautious, guarded, even. The swoop of his hair is handsome, charming Derek with a few nearly invisible strands of silver that seem to have started coming in sometime in the years Derek has seen Stiles last.

Oh God, Derek thinks. I never stopped. I never stopped and I promised myself... I told myself I wouldn't. I owed it to Stiles...

All Derek can do is flounder. Lie, like he's done before, and when Stiles asks Derek what brings him here tonight, KNOWING what brought them here tonight, KNOWING each knows what is bringing them there tonight. Stiles does the most gracious thing that anyone can do for Derek. Stiles lies. Stiles lets Derek lie, and also believes Derek's lies.

"So then, let's have.... dinner?" Derek asks. "Since we're here. You know. Alone." Derek feels himself start to sweat, and regrets the leather jacket. It's fine, they'll be seated soon. Derek summons the Maitre D, and asks to be seated immediately, per his reservation.

Thankfully, no questions are asked, and Derek and Stiles are escorted to a small room, with a table and two chairs, as well as a small, plush loveseat against one of the walls. Two candles stand untouched on a brass candelabra, on the table, where two settings are placed. A tiny stand is next to the table. A server appears and pulls out Stiles' chair. Derek stares daggers into the man, who backs away immediately. Stiles suppresses a grin, and sits down.

"The menu for the night is on the table. Your champagne will be out shortly with the first appetizers."

The waiter leaves, and Derek removes his leather jacket, hanging it over the back of his chair. He sits opposite of Stiles, who is sipping his whiskey. The drink catches the light, turning the same color as Stiles' eyes, eyes that Derek can no longer pretend don't exist. Derek immediately thinks of when they sparkled the last time for him, all those years ago...

It is dawn. The sun has only started to turn the sky pink in the bronze landscape of the Mexican desert. Derek is standing just inside the doors of the old abandoned church. The others are asleep in Stiles' Jeep, Roscoe, all but Stiles, who is in the church, sitting in an old wooden pew, possibly older than the Hale family. Stiles is looking up at the altar, and the morning light filtering in through the broken windows in shafts of sunlight reveal specks of dust floating peacefully in the air. There is no sign of the struggles that took place hours ago. No sign of the carnage that raged, ending in Derek's evolving as a Wolf, and the satisfying death of Kate Argent, for which Stiles had been responsible.

Derek can smell the scent of Stiles, and wants to stay away, but there's also so much that draws Derek to him. Stiles is so much older than the others, mentally, even though he's only 17. He has an entire life ahead of him.

Stiles looks up at Derek, his eyes searching. He looks so tired, and to Derek, even less older. "You okay?" Derek asks. Stiles nods.

"You?"

Derek nods, and enters into the space, standing near the pew where Stiles sits. "Thank you." Derek gets out the words before Stiles is blurting out, "I love you."

The words sock Derek in the gut, as if Stiles had swung his bat and nailed Derek right in the solar plexus. Stiles is biting his lips together, red now, eyes brimming. "I thought you were gonna die and I didn't want to leave you but you told me to, and I thought, shit, what if Derek dies and I never get to tell him..."

"Stiles... Stiles..." Derek tries to calm the teen, but Stiles is going on.

"And then after Scott came back from his shit, and we went out there, and I saw you fighting with Kate, and she hit you so fucking hard, and I lost it because I didn't know..."

"Stiles..." Derek crouches down next to Stiles, and takes his hand, and does his best to try and soothe Stiles.

"...if you... so I just... I lost it and I took..." Stiles hands tremble, and Derek is caught by surprise when Stiles crashes into him, hugging him. "Don't go..." Stiles' voice is tiny, pleading. "Please. Don't go."

The server comes in, a bottle of champagne sits in a bucket of shaved ice, chilling. A tray with appetizers is carted in as well, and those are set on the table, with the champagne on the tiny stand next to it. "Shall I, Sir?"

Derek nods, and the server opens the bottle, then takes two champagne goblets, and pours between them. Placing the bottle back into the ice, the cap resting snug in the neck of the bottle, he silently leaves.

"So. How's everything?" Derek asks. "How have you been? How's your father doing?"

Stiles grins. "Fine. Everything is good. Dad is still Sheriff, but is retiring soon. He's been... good. He's dating Melissa...."

"Scott's mom?" Derek asks, brows raised.

"Yeah." Stiles nods. "Can you believe that? Two people who seem to belong together, and it takes them forever to see that." Derek notes that Stiles' eyes go big, and Stiles shuts up immediately, taking a drink, and finishing his whiskey.

"Are they... happy... together?" Derek has no idea why he's asking, but this silence is too uncomfortable.

"Very." Stiles says, visibly measuring his words. "They are very happy, and are even considering the 'M' word, so.... that's... exciting." Stiles takes an appetizer, a stuffed mushroom cap, and eats it, chewing thoughtfully.

"Well." Derek says, picking up his glass, "Here's to them, then." He toasts, and Stiles does the same. Derek savors the taste of the drink, specially made with several light strands of wolf's bane, made to intoxicate Weres, but safe enough for humans to drink. He notes the face Stiles makes. "Stiles?"

Stiles, to his credit, grins and swallows. "It's.... different."

"You don't have to.... you know..." Derek says, wiping his lips.

"I mean, I've had less tasty fluids in my mouth." Stiles says, offhandedly, then flushes red, looking at Derek.

Derek smiles back. "I mean.... same." He winks at Stiles.

They laugh, and the tension between them softens. Stiles is giggling loosely, and Derek eats a stuffed mushroom, his stomach finally unclenched. It tastes amazing. They talk through the meal, Derek ordering another bottle of champagne, and Stiles another whiskey, then another, until Derek just commands the server bring the bottle to the table, which Stiles deems totally unnecessary, but feels a thrill that Derek would do that for him.

"You know," Stiles grins, tipping the whiskey and pouring some into the champagne, "this makes this taste even better."

Derek grins, sated. The steaks they ordered were buttery and done to perfection. Everything about the dinner was amazing, and now there was a pause before dessert. The waiter delivered a dish of strawberries with the next bottle of champagne.

"This works too." Derek says, taking a knife, and carving out the green stem, before crushing the berry between his fingers and dropping the fruit into the fizzy liquid. Stiles watched as Derek sucked his fingers clean, his arousal spiking at the sexual nature of the act. He sees Derek's eyes widen, going wide in the iris. Stiles knows that Derek is used to that scent.

Stiles buries his head into Derek's chest. "I wish... you didn't want to go." Stiles will never forget this moment, the way Derek smells, the way Derek feels pressed against him. Stiles doesn't even care that he's throwing himself at Derek. He needs him, right in this moment, Stiles understands that he not only wants Derek, but needs him as a part of his life.

"I have to go, Stiles." Derek says, softly. It feels like Derek has ripped Stiles' heart from his chest, the way Stiles punctured Kate Argent's sternum with the hunter's crossbow. Everyone had been shocked at Stiles' attack on her, all but Stiles, who for all of his perceived clumsiness managed to drop the cold hearted bitch with not one arrow through her heart, and an additional in her skull. Not willing to suffer another return, Derek gripped Kate Argent by the head, and severed it from her body with his bare hands. "Come back from that, bitch." Derek growled, tossing her head to the side. Closure is a beautiful thing.

Stiles watched that exchange with a sense of pride, satisfaction that Derek defeated his demon, and the slightest bit of pride he was able to help with some of that.

"I have to go, Stiles. Cora is still out there, and I need to find her. I need to make sure she's safe."

Stiles pulls away, and looks Derek in the eye. "Let me come with you. I can help. I can be like, an emissary, or something. I can talk to people, I can hunt, I can fight... I can..." Stiles pauses. Fuck it, in for a penny. "I can take care of you."

Derek's eyes soften, the pupils widen, and Stiles thinks for a moment, maybe he's won.

"I can't let you do that, Stiles. I can't let you throw your life away on me. Not when you have a life of your own to live."

"I can... I can join you... even if it's after graduation. I just... I just realized how much you mean to me, Derek. I can't let you go now."

"You're going to have to, Stiles." Derek looks hurt now, and Stiles aches inside. "Even if you want to, you're too young."

"Don't give me that. I'm old enough to fight shit like this..." Stiles dares, and strokes the side of Derek's face, the feel of the older man's stubble under his fingertips thrilling him. Derek closes his eyes.

"Stiles, you're not old enough to..."

"Fuck that." Stiles says, now pushing away, angrily. "I'm old enough to fight these things. I'm old enough to die in battle. I'm old enough to get beat up and threatened by psychotic old men with guns. I'm old enough to use my fucking dick however I want..."

"Stiles, stop!" Derek barks. He looks even more hurt now. "I thought I was too."

"That's different." Stiles points at Derek, feeling suddenly like his father. "That's different, and you know it so don't you dare try using that argument with me." Stiles bites his lips. "This isn't you doing anything to me, this is me telling you I'm ready to..."

Stiles pauses. Derek is crying. Tears are falling from the older man's eyes, and it hurts Stiles more than he imagined.

"You're not ready." Derek shakes his head. "I'm not ready." He continues, "And if you want to do something for me, to help me, to make me happy, then stay in school. Graduate. Become something, something more than I'll ever be able to be, Stiles."

Stiles feels his eyes fill with unshed tears. Derek continued. "My life is over, it's done. Nothing... I'll never be able to deserve you, Stiles. I'm damaged goods. Forever."

Derek turns away. "If you want to help me, then don't look for me. Don't hunt for me. Live your life for you, and... just... take care of you." Stiles watches with his heart in pieces, Derek's face turned, profile in the light of day. "I'm doing this for you. I'm doing this to protect you, to save you. I'm doing this because I care about you...."

Dessert is incredible. Another bottle of champagne appears that Derek doesn't remember ordering, but it's beside the point now.

Dinner is over, and now Stiles is seated on the small couch. He looks so sexy, and Derek hates that he thinks that. This is supposed to be a dinner, with an old friend. Only... it wasn't. It was supposed to be a romantic evening with a person that Derek had gotten to know, or got reintroduced to in these last few weeks. Someone he had come to know again, only he didn't know it was Stiles.

"So why are you on a site like that?" Derek asks.

"Same reason you are." Stiles replies, flirtatiously. "Looking for something I thought I'd lost all those years ago."

Derek blushes. "Stiles... I...."

"You did the right thing." Stiles blurts out. "I mean, yeah, it would have been nice to fuck around with you. It didn't happen, of course. No. I had to fuck up my life for a couple of decades..."

"Stiles." Derek sighs deeply.

"No, no, no." Stiles shakes his head. "I went through some pretty horrible shit, although I have to admit, some great man on man sex, but I mean, it was worth it to realize that...."

Stiles pauses, and Derek looks at him.

"Derek, I knew it then. I knew I loved you then. I've spent more than twenty years trying to find someone like you. Yeah, you've got your fucking issues, and I've got mine, but.... why couldn't have we worked on those together?"

Stiles' eyes are hurt. "We could have been something amazing."

Derek nods. "We could have, yes. I'm sorry, Stiles. Aside from being too young, I wasn't ready. I know I wasn't." Derek drinks a bit more champagne. "I knew that if anything happened between us, it would have been disastrous."

Stiles frowns.

"It would have, Stiles, trust me." Derek looks into Stiles' eyes. "You have no idea, none... no idea how hard it was for me to walk away from you that day." Derek sighed.

"I know." Stiles said, quietly. "You have no idea how hard it was to hold myself back. To not scream, or cry, or beg for you not to go. I was crushed, when you left. I got into terrible relationships, I..." Stiles shook his head.

"I'm sorry." Derek said, his voice low.

"Then, on the site, getting to talk to you, to know you... even though I didn't know it was you." Stiles held a finger up, pointedly. "Its been....wonderful. I fell in love with you all over again, Derek. I didn't think I could feel this way about anyone again. Not this late in life."

"Stiles, you're not that old..."

"Derek, have you tried being older in the dating world? And gay on top of that. I'm not the skinny little twink I was back then..."

"Stiles. You're beautiful." Derek says, boldly. "Maybe even MORE beautiful now, knowing what you've gone through, what you've survived. Do you see that?"

"All I see is you." Stiles says. "Derek. How do you.... how do you feel about who you thought... before you knew it was me...?"

Derek sets his drink on the small table next to the loveseat. "Stiles. I thought I was falling in love with someone else."

Stiles feels his heart shatter at that.

"Knowing that I spent the last few weeks falling in love with you, that... makes me feel like maybe.... if you feel...."

Stiles decides to go for it, and grabs onto Derek, pressing their lips together in a kiss. He is relieved when Derek returns it. For a moment, Stiles lets himself believe he's just some silly teenager, kissing the man of his dreams in the remains of a chapel in the deserts of Mexico. That there was a timeline where Derek said "yes", to Stiles' advances, where Stiles didn't have to drive back from Mexico, with his heart ripping and shredding with every mile behind him. That he didn't spend the next two years having nightmares where he was never there in time to save Derek.

Derek lets himself be kissed. despite the passion of past lovers, kissing was off limits. It was too intimate for him, too personal. Especially when he knew that there was only one person who he felt like kissing would have felt right. Someone who loved him, who protected him, who fought for him, even as sometimes he fought with him. Derek hadn't known this kind of connection, this kind of companion in a long time. The last time he knew him, he was a few months shy of being old enough for this to happen. Derek left because he wanted to protect himself, and much as he wanted to protect Stiles. Derek had been helpless as he watched everyone he love leave him, he knew after everything, losing Stiles would have been too much. So much so, that Derek just decided to opt out.

Stiles pulls away, in shock. He thumbs a tear from Derek's cheek. Then another, then another. "Der..." Stiles voice is worried. "I'm sorry... what did I...."

"No." Derek sobs. "Stiles... no... I'm sorry... I just..."

"I know..." Stiles says, tears falling from his eyes now. "I know..."

Stiles pulls Derek in, and feels like he is whole, once Derek's arms around him.

"Can we... Der... can we start again? You and I? No hang ups over age, no worries about our pasts. Can we just love each other?"

Derek nuzzles into Stiles. Despite the bottles of champagne, he is sober in a way that makes him shiver. "I would like that." He hiccups. "I think... I need that, Stiles. I need you."

Stiles pulls away, and looks Derek in the eye. "Derek Hale. I've waited my entire life to hear you say that." Stiles kisses Derek again.

Derek's head is swimming, and he's aware that yes, he's sober, and this giddy euphoria he's feeling now is Stiles, all Stiles. Derek returns the kiss, hungrily.

They leave the restaurant, Derek settling into the passenger seat of Derek's car. When Derek gets in, one hand on the wheel, the other on the gearshift, Stiles lets his hand come to rest on top of Derek's.

On the way back to Derek's, Stiles looks out the window, watching the lights of Los Angeles go by. They pass a beautiful old church, and Stiles' mind travels back, years and years, to a similar place in the desert.

It's after Derek has left Stiles. He's left the pack, but really, he's left Stiles. Scott seems shocked that Stiles isn't running after Derek, but Stiles stays firm, resolutely in place. Once Derek leaves, the others get their things together, and Stiles steals back into the church. He approaches the altar, and sinks to his knees. The area is clear, dusty. There's a space on the wall, the outline of a carving in the shape of a cross there. Stiles addresses it, his voice soft, but firm.

"You fucking owe me. For what you did to my mom..." Stiles voice hitches with emotion. "For what you took from me, you better not do that with Derek. He is beautiful, and he is good. He deserves to live a long life. I don't care if I have to suffer. If I suffer, fine. Just.... don't you dare.... DARE.... punish him anymore. He deserves happiness. You let him find it. No matter how long it takes, you let him find it, and have it."

Stiles gets up from the altar, and dusts off his knees. He feels a chill run through his spine, and feels like he's being watched. "You owe him that." Stiles says, in defiance of the universe.

Derek pulls into the driveway of his home in the hills. Stiles and he get out of the car, and Derek lets him into the house. Placing his keys in the dish near the door, Derek looks at Stiles. "There's a bathroom, there, in the hallway, if you need it."

Stiles leans in and kisses Derek. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Derek goes into the kitchen and grabs a couple of bottles of water, and takes them into the bedroom. He doffs his leather jacket, and sets it on a chair next to the closet. He smells Stiles before the man gets into the room.

"Der." Stiles stands in the doorway of Derek's bedroom. "Are you sure... like... if this happens... you're not going to have... regrets?"

"Stiles." Derek replies and it sounds more like a growl. The skinny little teen is now a grown man. Derek lets his eyes roam Stiles hungrily.

"Yes?" Stiles is a grown man, weak in the knees at Derek's look. He is audibly squeaking his answers.

Derek walks up to him. "We don't have to do anything, if you're not ready..."

"Dude. I've been waiting for decades. Fucking decades."

Derek chuckles, and pulls Stiles in for a kiss, and it's as sweeter than champagne.


End file.
